The music has faded
And I have slipped off my dancing shoes.
My hair is astray,
My gown cast aside,
My hands held out
Remembering your touch.
All is quiet
And I wonder where you’ve gone . . .
Then from within
I feel your warmth . . .
I look up and you are here.
Perhaps, waiting for me
To notice.
by Martha L Shaw – Copyright 10-5-2012
